Maybe it’s because I never told anyone about those days. After killing my breath and lying there for a long time, I floated up from my body. I heard all this from up here in Seoul. When I couldn’t write, or every time I had a bad fight with someone in the family, I felt like leaving this house. The build-up of finding the elephant is a metaphor itself showing the destructive power of imperialism: the elephant’s rampaging spree destroying homes, food shelves, and even killing a man whom Orwell described to have an expression of unendurable agony. Who are you? The ocean looked infinitely deep. Ans: A working elephant is equal to a huge and costly piece of machinery. 4:40 P.M. Orwell waits for it to die, but it continues to breathe. My father, my uncles, and my aunts stayed up drinking until dawn. Even then, I didn’t go to Yeosu. I’m not as afraid of losing the house as I am of losing you, I blurted out to him, terrified. I’m looking down a little, my head slightly bowed. I didn’t stop walking. If a room were free, we could move the stuff from the main bedroom there and we could put the sofa back in the living room. I bought some new bookshelves. Now the lacquer is peeling from the edges in spots and the legs wobble, but it’s still usable. Then he asks another thing. The warmth lingers on my palm. The Polaroid camera I have is a Polaroid Spectra. It was 1996, so I was twenty-six—it was the year I started college. When my stomach bothers me, I roll over onto my left side and fall asleep facing the wall. I look at the picture of my family—the one I took on my birthday when I got home after breaking up with him. Each time the elephant flapped its ears, it sent a cold breeze through the front of my clothes. I also know that whenever something about Yeosu comes up on TV shows like My Hometown at 6, he looks at me. This was supposed to be my youngest sister’s room. I was afraid my uncle might be lying there dead. I looked at him with a sullen face. The autopsy wasn’t able to determine whether her death was a suicide or a homicide. Author's Profile. It was a hot midsummer day. There is also a sense of irony in the closing section of the story. An Elephant in the Garden. My father left his hometown when he was nine, after his mother died. I never got a reply from Yonjong. Then, as if to say that it was nothing after all, it went clomping back again, retracing its steps. I held my breath and—click—I pressed the shutter as if I were on an ambush. At the end of the trunk, the African elephant has two finger-like projections and the Asian elephant has one. George Orwell: Modernism and Imperialism in "Shooting an Elephant" Wibbly, Wobbly, Timey, Wimey Paradoxes: Rhetoric and Contradiction in "Shooting an Elephant" It was an animated commercial that showed a bottle of Blupen rushing like a train toward a child with a fever. The elephant followed the keeper in through the steel gate and disappeared. I would also peek into the galleries near work. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. I never got another chance to get a picture of his face. My father quit smoking. In Elephant by Raymond Carver we have the theme of acceptance, struggle, security, letting go and dependency. When my sisters get out of work late, they call me first, though I’m still asleep. His flabbergasted expression is still clear in my mind. When I went downstairs to the bathroom, someone grabbed me from behind and pulled my backside against his groin. Because its neck is short, it cannot look behind itself. It is as he is walking to work that the narrator starts to think about his family. I don’t like it because that’s where my father was born. Hey, don’t you know how to put on a seat belt? Orwell is distressed to see the elephant laboring to die, clearly in agonizing pain, … During times of drought, elephants even use their tusks to dig holes to find water underground. In the morning, I heard my coworkers cursing, Who did this? My room on the roof is warm. In the early morning and evening they forage for plants, and they rest in the shade of trees during the day. The mahout i.e. When I went back to work—sometimes four hours past lunchtime—my coworkers would look at me disapprovingly. At one point in time the British Empire covered over 40% of the world. There was a big desk, a wardrobe, a bed, a shiny sink. Looking for the Elephant By Jo Kyung Ran Jo Kyung Ran is a winner of the Dongin Prize, Korea’s most prestigious literary award, and the author of the new novel Tongue. I felt a coldness brush past my face. I try flexing the fingers of the hand that dangles from the bed. All right, everyone, look this way! I shot a magnolia just beginning to spread its petals, and I shot my old sneakers. My uncles, cousins, and aunts stood in front of the grill and cooked the meat and blood clams. 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